


PROFESSOR MEMBRANE: Enter the Incredible Hallucination

by aug325, CephalonGhost



Series: Membrane's Guide to Becoming a Better Parent: LOSE YOUR FUCKING ARMS [6]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alternate POV, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Gap Filler, Good Parent Professor Membrane, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26051491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aug325/pseuds/aug325, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CephalonGhost/pseuds/CephalonGhost
Summary: Picking up after: "Miniature PEGs and Childergy"What SHOULD be the final installment of this seriesThe events of ETF from Professor Membrane's POV!
Relationships: Professor Membrane & Zim's Computer
Series: Membrane's Guide to Becoming a Better Parent: LOSE YOUR FUCKING ARMS [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782715
Comments: 99
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

How strangely ironic it be towards the end of August—just past the second year anniversary mark of Professor Membrane’s near shark attack—be when Dib finally came out of his room. The Professor hadn’t anticipated it at all when it happened, having mentally prepared himself for the possibility of the boy refusing to come out as always whenever he attempted to coax him out.

That night dinner had been made by the newest Foodio model. Having made it past all the health and safety tests in the lab with flying colors, Membrane was now putting it to the test in his own home.

“NOW...” He began with the level of power and dramatics that had become tied to his name. “Prepare your starving, gurgling child bellies for the awesome eventuality…” He struck a bit of a pose before turning to point towards where Foodio 3000 stood. “Of DINNER!”

The robot let out a groan at first, electricity sparking in every which direction and the oven in his chest glowing brightly. Then everything stopped with a singular DING, the oven door opening up to reveal a perfectly cooked dinner of chicken, mashed potatoes, and vegetables displayed artistically on a plate. The plate then dematerializing and duplicating before reappearing on the table.

Gaz’s eyes flew open in awe at the appearance of the food, paying no attention to Foodio 3000’s expression of how he hoped she loved the dinner he had made.

And then the robot seemed to begin having a bit of an existential crisis, asking what “love” was.

Which was expected to happen eventually with the modifications the Professor had made after the AI development personality was finalized. Ensuring that the robot would always love/enjoy cooking and serving food was meant to be a failsafe to make reprogramming it to serve evil more difficult. With how easily the first prototypes had been hacked, this was only one failsafe of many. Even if the “love” Foodio 3000 felt wasn’t necessarily _real_.

In the end, though, Foodio wouldn’t be something the Professor would utilize that often. Not like he had originally been planning when he decided to resurrect the project. Preparing the meals he and his children ate himself had become a part of his daily routine. It helped him in maintaining his movement accuracy when using his prosthetic arms, and it produced a sense of accomplishment each time he finished a dish.

Foodio was thus more or less a backup means for his kids to always have a readymade meal available should something come up.

And while Gaz was more than eager to try out what the robot had made…

“Looks great, dad.” Gaz said while looking to him rather than the bot. “I’m gonna _eat_ that food.”

“Hold up now, daughter!” Membrane thrust his arm on the table almost as if he were going to karate chop it in half. An over the top action to grab the girl’s attention—one that previously would have made her flinch like it still did Dib—before he moved to stand on the opposite side of the table. “Isn’t it about time your brother joined us?”

He highly doubted trying to use taste testing the robot’s cuisine would be enough to lure his son out. But there was really little else he had left that he could try. And while he managed to project that he was perfectly fine and care free…

He wasn’t.

“Oh man, no…”

Gaz started going on a rant about Dib’s current state of being. However, since his little friend had fallen ill and “disappeared” things he had refused to come out of his room.

But the Professor knew the truth.

It wasn’t _just_ what had happened to the boy’s friend that had caused him to lock himself away. The memory of the night before his twelfth birthday replaying in his mind.

_“You AREN’T my DAD!”_

He hadn’t once called him “dad” since that night. Not even once he finally started talking to him through the door again.

_“You’re just some CRAZY egomaniac scientist who cloned himself just because he COULD!”_

By the time he realized he had lost focus on the present, Membrane had missed most of what his daughter said.

Something about Dib getting grosser the longer he was in his room?

“He sure does…” He said in agreement, despite how he had not seen the boy once since then with how he was barred from entry.

He might not have been able to properly repair the door—he was a _scientist_ , not a carpenter—so a simple breeze could throw it open, but that didn’t mean _he_ was going to.

“But try to be more understanding…”

Professor Membrane dug into his lab coat pockets for a small collection of electronic components that he began assembling together. Focusing on the construction to keep the approaching void of anxiety and despair at bay as he attempted giving what he hoped sounded like a pep talk. One that he hoped would encourage his daughter to go upstairs and call Dib down in his place.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle another night of rejection from his son.

“Dib’s finally letting go of his silly obsession with aliens and ghosts and _all_ his other non-scientific nonsense.” That’s what the Professor believed, anyhow. It was hard for him to know what his son was thinking when he hadn’t properly spoken to him in _months._ When he had effectively ruined the boy’s whole life with his own failings and was the entire reason people believed him _insane_ to begin with.

“And it’s not easy for him.”

But Membrane couldn’t allow himself to think about that. Couldn’t allow depression to pull him under again. Not in front of Gaz.

He had to be strong.

Even if his daughter was entirely aware he was faking it.

And pretending to be enamored by the hard-light energy fork he used every dinner time would only allow him to avoid making eye contact for so long. So, with a bit of flourish, he proposed a question he knew would get an emotional response out of her.

“Imagine if you stopped believing in, oh, videogames?”

“Don’t even joke about that, dad!”

Yep, there it was. There was the anger and aggression he was expecting. And the murder of an innocent fork at his daughter’s hand came with it. Only to be immediately discarded and replaced by Foodio.

“Honey, letting go of _silly_ ideas is a part of growing up!” The Professor tried to reason, mainly with himself, and brought up his belief of sharks being his friends when he was a child.

Then he quickly turned around, removing one of his gloves to examine his prosthetic hand, murmuring how he knew better now.

He allowed the anger to briefly wash over him, just to keep the other negative emotions brewing up inside him from taking root instead. Giving himself only a second to collect his wits before returning to his nonchalant demeanor, sliding his glove back on and turning back towards his daughter.

As he did, he found her already pulling on the suit he had designed for her as he expressed how she should try to be more supportive of her brother.

How they could be more supportive, he had no idea. They were both already trying to be as supportive as they could.

But he couldn’t think of much else to say at this point.

Once she had left the kitchen, he finally let the mask he had been keeping up crack and fall as he sank into his seat at the table. His head in his hands as he quietly listed the elements of the periodic table. Not even do as much as even touching his plate, much to Foodio’s sadness.

Then Gaz’s screaming caused him to jump to his feet and make a dash for the stairs.

He’d just barely stepped foot onto the top floor’s landing when he froze in his tracks, an expression of concern trapped in his throat as he could only stare silently and wide-eyed at what was in front of him.

Dib was out of his room.

Dib was _out_ of his room!

And he looked absolutely _disgusting_.

In the time he’d spent locked in his room, the boy had gained a considerable amount of weight. So much that he seemed unable to even get out of his chair. How he had avoided developing deadly blood clots from remaining seated for so long, Membrane could only imagine.

But the weight wasn’t the only difference. In fact, it was the _least_ concerning thing of all.

Dib’s hair had grown long and unruly, not having been trimmed even once since he’d become a shut-in. A thick layer of grease coating every strand as well as what he could see of the boy’s skin. He’d gone so long without a wash that his face had broken out into a collection of pimples. And the build-up of mucus jutting out from his ears...

No wonder Gaz had been complaining about the smell. She _hadn’t_ been exaggerating.

By the time the Professor had managed to snap himself out of the shock, Dib had wheeled himself past him and had hurled himself down the stairs.

“Son...!” Membrane called after, racing back down to the first floor. His head swirling in confusion as he felt as though he had no idea what was happening anymore.

This wasn’t how he had envisioned his son’s coming out happening.

Why was he just continuing to ignore him and Gaz as if he’d never shut himself away to begin with?!

“Son, _where_ are you _going?!_ ” The Professor found himself standing in the doorway, looking out to his son as he rolled himself and his desk chair down the street.

But the boy didn’t answer him. He just kept going forward to _science_ knows where.

And Membrane couldn’t even so much as bring himself to try and stop him. Just watched him go before slowly closing the door and letting himself plop down onto the couch on autopilot.

He tried to collect himself, just enough to reapply the mask he had managed to keep on till just a few minutes ago. Managing to do so just before Gaz, who looked a bit sickly, came looking for him in the living room.

“Daughter,” He stood up to get a better look at her in case she should need medical attention. But other than appearing nauseated, she seemed perfectly fine. “Did your brother happen to tell you where he was headed?”

Gaz pushed herself away from him enough to stand on her own. Mumbling something barely audible as she made her way to the kitchen. But one word, or more accurately one _name_ , managed to stand out.

 _ZiM_.

On a hunch, Professor Membrane climbed back up the stairs to his son’s room and avoided the desire to cringe in horror at the piles of garbage of filth littered about. He would be sure Dib cleaned up himself and the mess he’d made later. But for now, he instead allowed his attention to be taken by what was displayed on the multitude of screens in the room.

The boy’s little green friend and his dog suit-wearing robot sibling… They were outside playing!

No wonder Dib had finally gotten the motivation to leave bis room!

But something was still amiss...

In his last call with the other boy’s parent, just earlier this morning, they hadn’t mentioned their son showing a sudden improvement in health. And while Membrane certainly couldn’t judge his current condition on appearance alone, if he _was_ recovered...

Just what in PEG’s name was he doing out at this hour so soon?! After all the time his parent—how they _both_ spent fretting over his state of being?

Had he snuck out to play while his parent was out at work? The Professor’s own son was guilty of doing the same on many occasions…

Membrane turned to leave could just as Dib’s silhouette began making its way into the camera frames. His mind already made up for what it was he had to do as he broke into a jog the moment he placed one foot out the door.

It didn’t take him long to get to the odd little house that was tucked away in one of the neighboring cul-de-sacs. But by the time he had, the other boy had seemed to have already retreated back inside his home while Dib lay collapsed on the sidewalk.

He was completely unconscious, suggesting he must have fainted in the time it had taken the Professor to arrive.

With a slight shake of his head, he lifted his boy—chair and all—up into his arms. Looking him over closely and taking in just how much his health had declined in such a short timeframe.

It would take quite a while for him to get back that lithe and spry little boy body he’d had before. At least, it would if he were anyone else’s child. The Professor was far from about to allow his son to go through the same lengthy and rigorous physical training he’d gone through to get in shape. His mind already doing the math for adjusting the formula of his muscle mass building serum, the one he had been forbidden from using on himself, for a boy Dib’s age.

After all, Dib didn’t need to _keep_ the muscle like he did. He only needed the temporary boost and advanced fat burning effects it would give him to get him back to a healthy weight. And it wasn’t as if there was a risk of any _horrible_ adverse side effects, given how the Professor had safely used it on himself once before. Dib’s DNA structure was nearly identical to his own, so he would be _perfectly fine_ even if there were some minor ones.

Anything would be better than having his son endure further bullying from his peers.

Because he already knew of how the other children bullied his boy. Had known for a long time now that they constantly belittled and mocked him for his ideas and his interests. And while none of them seemed to ever take appearance into their mocking behavior, Membrane wasn’t willing to take the risk of waiting for their or the World’s reaction to his son’s current physical state. Not when his own was still very much a popular topic.

Dib had already been the subject of media ridicule more than once before. More times than what the Professor would have ever allowed had he gotten more involved sooner. And that went without even mentioning the time he had resulted in Gaz being turned into a media freak from his lack of foresight. But at least she hadn’t seemed that bothered by it.

At least... She didn’t _act_ like it had.

Letting out a sigh, Membrane lifted his gaze towards the oddly decorated home. Lights shone out from within through the windows, however, the tinted glass made determining what was going on difficult. At most, all he could decipher from the colored blobs was ZiM moving about the living room while his robot sibling sat on the couch watching TV.

The urge to walk over to knock on the door now that someone was clearly home was strong, but he resisted. Chances were, based on how the sickly green child's parent described his paranoia, he was more likely to hide from him than open the door for him if his parent wasn’t present.

Another time then.

Tearing his eyes from the red-stained windows, the Professor turned on his heels and began to carry his son home before it got much darker.

* * *

Surprisingly, even before he saw fit to bring it up, Dib ended up trying to get himself back into shape the following day.

His room was still a complete stye though.

So, whenever Membrane managed to come up to the boy’s room to bring him a bottle of water—laced with just a _tiny_ dose of the enhanced muscle building serum—to make sure he stayed hydrated, he would tidy up a bit of the space or carry out some of the garbage. He would have preferred to clean the boy’s room out all in one go, but there was the risk of Dib going back to shunning him and denying him entrance again if he pushed too much too soon.

He wanted very much to avoid that.

Especially since he was finally calling him “dad” again.

It had been hard for the Professor to contain himself when the boy finally referred to him as such after so long. But he managed to keep himself calm and collected until he was out of his son’s field of vision to flail his arms around in a bout of happy stimming.

So, to keep things steadily improving as they were, he left Dib to his own devices for the most part. Checking in from time to time to see how he, and his sister providing moral support, were doing. And when he wasn’t doing that, he kept himself busy with his usual habits and making the final adjustments to the Peace Day edition of the Membracelets.

After all, he only had less than a month left to complete it before his Keynote.

He also still needed to round up some test children to use as guinea pigs at some point. Their backlog of candidates had recently run out from all the Foodio taste testing sessions. So there would be the dealing with his legal team again that he always dreaded…

Then, when there was only a week left until the Keynote, a bit of a problem cropped up that required Membrane’s immediate attention.

One he considered more concerning than the random citywide power outage that he had to deal with just the week before.

The day had started relatively normal, the Professor cooking up breakfast for himself and his children. Dib hadn’t come down just yet, mainly because he was still taking all his meals in his room, so he was putting together a plate to bring the boy.

Then he received a call over his headset from a phone number he had long since engraved into memory.

“Good morning, my friend!” Professor answered cheerfully while carefully measuring spoonfuls of honey for his son’s morning tea. Gaz munching on her waffles at the table just behind him. “You’re calling rather early today.” He observed as he took note of the time displayed on the HUD of his headset.

It was currently eight-thirty in the morning. Normally he didn’t hear from the other till around eleven or sometime past noon. And always after Cynthia called first.

A surprise, to say the least, but not an unwelcome one.

“Mornin’.” the other returned the greeting with the same level on enthusiasm one would have upon receiving a jury summons. Which was how they normally sounded at any given moment usually. Except…

“Something the matter?” Membrane raised a brow in questioning as he began to carry the tray of breakfast food out of the kitchen and up the stairs. “You sound troubled.”

“Ah… ZiM’s just… In a mood right now…” The other explained with a defeated sigh.

“What type of mood?”

“A depressed and unmotivated one.”

“Oh…” The Professor paused for a moment at the top of the landing for a moment. “Well, that certainly is troubling…” He briefly considered his options of what he could say in this situation. Especially given how it seemed their situations were now reversed.

And if this was going where he thought it was…

“And what of his physical health? Is he well enough to receive visitors?”

“Yeah… For once he is.” Yep, just as he’d thought. “Anyway, how’s Dib doing since, uh…” They trailed off, as if distracted by something that caused them to lose their train of thought.

Or the other could have also just been struggling to think of the appropriate phrasing of what they wanted to ask. The Professor coming to the conclusion, that if it was related to Dib, they were likely trying to ask about how he was doing in getting back into shape. And from his memory, they hadn’t really been too on board with his method of assistance.

_“Not that I don’t understand your reasoning, Professor, but are you really sure slipping you kid a muscle mass building serum—a STEROID essentially—is REALLY a good idea?”_

“Dib should be fit enough to come visit your little boy sometime soon.” Membrane said to rid the other the burden of having to ask. “And perhaps I might drop by as well.”

“What— _no!_ ” The other was quick to rebuke once their attention was back on their conversation. “I mean—You’re still preparing for your Keynote unveiling, aren’t you?”

“I am, yes.” Membrane nodded as he began walking down the hall towards his son’s bedroom again. Grunts and other assorted noises of effort increasing in volume the closer he got. “But I’m more than capable of sparing a few hours for a visit.”

“No you aren’t.” The other said with such certainty that took the Professor by surprise. “I’m pretty sure you have your hands full.”

“Nonsense.” The Professor scoffed as he pushed open his son’s bedroom door. “Taking an hour or two to speak with you face to face won’t—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as he dropped the tray he’d been carrying in shock.

In front of him stood a mountain of impossible and disproportionate muscle instead of a tiny and adorable boy he was expecting to find.

It _was_ his boy. But something had clearly gone wrong.

Horribly, _horribly_ , wrong.

“You were saying?” the Professor’s friend urged him to continue. Their tone of voice giving the impression they were aware of what he’d find in Dib’s bedroom and had been waiting on him to see for himself.

“I…” Membrane quietly took a half-step back out of the room. Trying not to draw his son’s attention. “I’ll have to call you back…”

Not even a split second after he’d ended the call, he was racing back down the stairs towards his home lab to grab the anti-serum.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay…

So lacing his son’s beverages with a muscle-building serum hadn’t been one of his greatest ideas…

But that didn’t make having his failure _laughed at_ sting any less.

The Professor’s phone companion had been laughing for well over a minute now.

He’d called them back as promised, but not until after the anti-serum had taken effect and Dib had reverted back to his itty bitty little boy size. A process that had been rather… Painful, to say the least. But, Dib didn’t seem _too_ adversely affected by his sudden reversion once he regained consciousness. And the boy had actually _thanked_ him for saving him from being forced to live life while “too in-shape.” He was completely unaware of the role his father had actually played in the predicament he’d found himself in.

Membrane wasn’t sure if he preferred or further regretted things being that way.

One thing he certainly would prefer, however, was that his friend would STOP. _LAUGHING._

“Are you _quite_ finished?” He asked, not bothering to conceal is immense irritation with the other.

“One—one second...!” They continued laughing for a few seconds more before finally calming down and ceasing. Clearing their throat once they were done. “Sorry—sorry, I just _really_ needed to get that out of my system.”

“I fail to see how my son’s gross disfigurement from my meddling is anything humorous.”

“I... Right... Yeah... That _wouldn’t_ be funny to regular parents, would it?” The other cleared their throat at that moment, seeming to realize their error. “Again, sorry, I just couldn’t contain it anymore. He looked so _ridiculous!_ ”

“… How would you know how he looked?”

“Ah…I mean…” They stalled for a moment as though to choose their next words carefully. “The visual of him I imagined when you suddenly had to end our call. What I _imagined_ looked ridiculous.”

“Hm… I see…” Membrane’s stance remained rigid, his prosthetic hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he willed away the anger. Not wanting it to overtake him this time to avoid the possibility of him snapping and saying some rather _unkind_ things towards his companion midst his wrath.

“Feel free to yell at me if I’ve pissed you off.” The other then said, suddenly sounding very tired compared to how energized they had been moments prior when laughing at his son’s expense. As if a switch had been flipped in their brain, becoming resigned to their fate. “I’m used to it.”

“No…” Membrane shook his head adamantly. “That would be incredibly rude and cowardly of me.” He needed to be the bigger person here. Spite would do him no good if he ended up driving away one of the few people he felt he could really connect and open up to. “Especially over the phone.”

The Professor took in a breath and slowly let it out. Pulling away from the wall in his home lab he had propped himself up against to move towards his desk. Lifting a hand, he pushed his goggles up to let himself rub at his tired eyes as he sighed. Exhaustion taking the place of the rage once it had been dispelled from his body.

“You sure?” The other questioned as he was letting himself sit back in his desk chair, seeming taken aback over how they weren’t being chewed out as they must have been expecting. “My ZiM seems to find taking his anger out on me rather therapeutic.”

That caused the Professor to take pause.

“You...” He pulled his goggles back down over his eyes after rubbing at them one final time. “Does your child do that regularly...? Yell at you?”

“Yeeeep.” They said without any hint of sarcasm. “Literally every day before he... Got sicker suddenly...”

“And you just... Let him do such a thing?” Membrane attempted to process this, a tad perplexed but not surprising given how the other often behaved. “After all you already do for him?”

“Not much else I _can_ do in those situations.” They seemed to audibly shrug.

“But…” The Professor tried to contemplate how someone could deal with their child yelling at them every day.

He could hardly cope or even knew what to do most of the time when his own children yelled at him. Flashbacks to what had happened the night before Dib’s birthday and the subsequent panic attack plaguing his mind as he tried to wrap his head around how the other could just _take it_ and be completely fine.

“How do you know he doesn’t hate you?” He finally asked.

It took a second before the other finally responded. But when they did, what they said made Membrane feel a touch of relief.

“Because he still needs me.” It was statement backed with complete assurance on the other’s part. “Even if he refuses to admit it.”

“I see…” Membrane mulled over on that for a moment to absorb the information.

“And...” The other continued. “If it makes you feel any better... One time I didn't recognize my Zim after he combined his DNA with bologna in some... _Science experiment_ gone wrong he was messing around with.”

The word “bologna” had the Professor sitting upright almost immediately.

Were they talking about—

“I thought he was an intruder and I kicked him out of his own home. It wasn't until like a few hours later I realized my mistake and sent GIR with an antidote...”

By science, it _was_.

“The whole thing was kinda stupid and _funny_ in retrospect, but at the time...heh...” The laugh they ket out was short and awkward. “No one was happy in that situation..."

“I remember that.” Membrane gave a small laugh of his own. “That was how I first met your other little one.”

"Huh?” The other seemed confused. “Ah.. oh...Ah yes... I’m... Sure you mentioned that at one point.” They seemed to be struggling to recall the fact. “GIR _had_ said he waved to you—”

“He actually jumped onto the front of my lab coat and slobbered all over my face.” Membrane corrected, recalling the moment in question.

_“HI SCIENCE MAN!”_

“Managed to pull down my collar and get my mouth.”

_“You taste like metal and chemicals!”_

“Yeah… He does that…” The other said with a sigh, implying they to were a victim of this show of what the Professor assumed was affection several times. “Either way, sometimes it's hard to tell what's true and what's nonsense with him...”

“Sounds like he’s more of a handful than his older brother from all the other stories you’ve told me.”

“You have _no idea_.” They groaned. “Anyway, uh...” They started sounding awkward and unsure in what they were saying. “Guess I...Never apologized about sending only _one_ dosage. I didn’t have enough resources for more than one, so... Sorry."

“You needn’t apologize, my friend.” Membrane assured them, whatever lingering anger he had felt having faded entirely now. “I doubt you could have known my boy was also afflicted at the time.”

“... Yeah...” They agreed almost hesitantly. “How _could_ I have known...”

There was a long pause, as though they were taking a moment to reflect.

“I must say though, now I understand why you’re so adamant on refusing my offers of providing your son medical assistance.” The Professor chuckled lightly. “I wasn’t aware that on top of your IT programming profession you were also a skilled gene biologist.”

“Huh—?“

“Frankly it only has me further looking forward to when we can finally meet in person.” He continued, propping his head up with a fist. “I can imagine us having _so much more_ to talk about that phone calls simply can’t cover.”

“I...Ah... A—Anyway...!” They coughed and cleared their throat as they shifted the subject back to its original topic. “It's not like I don't make my share of dumb mistakes! And you got to admit, It is a _little_ funny...”

“... Yes, I suppose it is.” Membrane finally admitted, allowing himself to have a bit of a laugh as well.

How odd.

He actually didn’t feel as self-loathing about the entire situation as he had been earlier.

“Especially since he’s still perfectly healthy after that.” The other added onto their initial statement.

“ _Thankfully_ , yes.” Professor lightly agreed. “And your boy?” he began as a change of subject. “How has he been fairing since this morning?”

He could hear his friend let out a loud depressed sigh on the other end of the line.

“Still schmoopy and unresponsive…”

“…’Schmoopy’?” That was a word Membrane hadn’t heard before.

“Ah… Yeah, it’s some new slang term for sad and depressed people have been using lately.” The other explained.

“Ah, I see.” That made sense. He was always out of the loop when it came to that. “Well, Dib should be back to being well enough himself in a few days. Likely a day or two before my Keynote event.” Had he been wearing his facial prosthetic, he would have frowned behind his raised collar. “A shame really, as it means I won’t be able to pay a visit as well by the time he does. I’ll likely be too busy working out the final kinks in the prototypes.”

“Yeah… It _really_ is…” The other appeared to agree with that sentiment, but they sounded more relieved than anything. “Though, to be honest. Probably for the best since I haven’t exactly had the time or energy to really clean _since_ …” They paused as if they were turning away to look at the state of their home. “… _Anyway_ , speaking of the Keynote… Need any more help practicing the delivery of your presentation?”

The question was one the Professor had been anticipating to come up at some point during their call. The other had already more than once offered and acted as a stand-in audience member to help him regain his public speaking mindset and skills he’d lost touch with since his accident. And while he had since perfected the entire speech, he’d still been rehearsing daily since last week.

“Only if you’re certain I haven’t absolutely bored you to death with how often you’ve heard it by now.”

They let out a subdued laugh.

“Trust me, listening to you talk won’t be what kills me.”

Something about the way that was worded was a bit concerning to Professor Membrane. Though he couldn’t quite put his finger on as to why that was, other than how pessimistic and accepting his companion seemed to be about an eventual death.

Though, that reminded him…

“Ah, before I forget, there’s actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Huh? What?”

“Ah…” The Professor was silent for a moment, wondering if he should actually follow through with what he’d been about to ask the other.

Asking for their name _now_ after speaking to them for a year would be rather awkward, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps it would be better off if he waited to ask their son what his parent’s name was when he got the chance instead.

“Nevermind.”

* * *

A few days later, the Professor stood in the front yard of his house humming to himself. Before him was a small group of children whose parents had been coerced into signing the consent forms for allowing them to be used for testing purposes. His Keynote unveiling was just a day away now, tomorrow night, and there were only a few remaining kinks in the coding he had left to work on. Both on the Peace Day Edition Membracelets and his relationship with his son.

After the effects of the muscle...

Oh, who was he kidding?

After the _steroid_ had finally been worked out of his system, and Dib was back to his little twelve-year-old-boy self, he had been unable to really move out if his bed until yesterday. His body still stuck to his chair as well as too sore from the anti-serum doing its work as a breakthrough in the biological sciences. Similar to how he had been out of commission the time the Professor had to change him back from a bologna sausage.

But this morning Dib had been well enough to get up and had started working out again.

Membrane was sure to remind the boy not to push himself and casually brought up the prospect of coming down later to help him with a project. But he wasn’t entirely sure if the boy had actually heard what he’d said over the electrical guitar rifts Gaz had been playing at the time for motivation.

Even if Dib hadn’t, it wasn’t as though continuing the prototype testing without his son’s assistance would result in the end of the world.

“Alright, test children,” Membrane said in what could be perceived as a gentle and friendly tone of voice. His right hand typing up commands into the device strapped around his own wrist. “These bracelets are just _prototypes_.” He emphasized as he started up the test, unaware of the front door to his home opening up behind him. “So try not to breathe, or _think_ , while the energy field—“

Something smacked into his back right at that moment. A pliable object with a decent amount of weight to it, but not nearly heavy or thrown at him with enough force to throw him off balance. His metal spinal harness and leg supports kept him standing as firm and solid as a brick wall.

And it was why it took him about a half-second to finally react. Turning away from the test children as they began floating off, forgotten.

“What— _oh!_ ” Confusion morphed into joy when the Professor saw his son—dressed and chair free—rising to his feet behind him. His mind instantly putting together and coming to the conclusion that his son must have crashed into him midst running out the front door with extreme enthusiasm.

Had Dib seen him working on the Membracelets from his bedroom and decided to come help?

“ _Behold_ , my boy child!” Membrane held out his arms as though he were presenting the boy in front of a crowd. Still very much in his showman mindset. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you _this_ excited about science!”

He lifted Dib up by the arm, hardly registering his vocalization of confusion, and forgoing the boundaries of touch that were normally in place. The joy of seeing his boy outside of his room, in perfect health, and wanting to spend time with his father causing the Professor to momentarily forget himself. Only remembering his son’s aversion to his touch after he had clasped a prototype bracelet onto Dib’s own tiny wrist.

He let go of the boy almost immediately, dropping him onto his feet, then quickly attempting to move the conversation along by continuing to speak about the bracelet. Avoiding making eye contact with Dib and instead focusing on the pocket edition version of his presentation being displayed on his wrist.

“Tomorrow at my big Keynote event, I reveal it to the world! And when Peace Day comes, the children of the Earth will hold hands and— _Wait a minute_... _!_ ”

Out of the corner of his eye, Professor Membrane spotted something very familiar he hadn’t been expecting to see out in the light of day again.

The science damned _Alien Hunting Briefcase._

“Oh, son...” The Professor held a hand to his head, his prior happiness fading away in obscurity as he began being enveloped by the cold hand of sadness that threatened to drag him down and under. “Not this _nonsense_ _again_...”

Of course, his son hadn’t come out to help him as he thought.

Of _course_ , he would have never been excited to spend time with him.

Why had he even allowed himself to think he had for even a moment?

And not only that…

After everything Professor Membrane had endured in these past months.

Believing he had destroyed his son’s world view, betrayed his trust, and _ruined_ his life. That he was the real _monster_ amongst all the imaginary ones Dib had once obsessed over. One that had taken away from his boy what he loved after having undermined his passion for so long.

Attending parenting classes.

Upping his medications to combat his increasing anxiety.

Living in self-loathing and a constant state of depression because his son had shut him out of his room and his life.

It all just came back to _**this**_.

As if _none of that_ had ever even happened. Had never even _mattered_. After he had gone through months of _hell_ preparing to help his son cope with the loss of his childhood. Preparing _himself_ for facing the worst from Dib only to instead receive the opposite.

And while that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, his son still clinging to his interests and passions, it was as if they were just…

“Dad,” Dib spoke with a bitterness that carried more weight to it than the boy likely knew. “Trying to save the Earth from ZiM’s alien evil is _not_ nonsense.” He turned away from the Professor and started walking. “Without _me,_ there might not _be_ an Earth to hold hands around.”

“Son, there _are no aliens!”_ The Professor asserted just a tad aggressively, unable the help the anger he felt after all he had gone through.

He was tired…

He was just _so tired_ of this.

He thought he had finally understood where he had gone wrong and had paid the price for it. Thought they could finally move past things and be a family again like they had started to actually be before.

But the universe continued to have other plans for him that went against everything he had been getting ready to handle: Dib still behaving as though he hadn't changed. That the last _two years_ had simply never happened.

It was if they were just _characters_ on some bizarre children's show that never challenged them to grow, or change, or develop... Things forever stagnant for everyone no matter what was thrown their way unless it was somehow convenient for a one-off episode plot. Everyone but the Professor.

“I’ve _tried_ to be _patient_ with your _unscientific interests_ ,” Membrane allowed his shoulders to sag, not even bothering to conceal or behave as though he was unaffected by his son’s behavior. “Big Feets, ghosts,” he counted off on his fingers with each cryptid he listed. “ _Vampire bees_ —”

“YOU _SAW_ THOSE STING MARKS!” Dib immediately snapped, voice cracking as he spun around while pointing at his neck. “AND YOU _KNOW_ I EAT _A LOT_ OF HONEY NOW!”

Yes.

He remembered those marks.

He remembered them well.

He also remembered how he had humored his son on the matter. Completely went against his usual tactic of performing tests and experiments to disprove Dib’s beliefs.

The time for humoring was over. Especially if Dib was going to continue behaving like their family hadn’t been impacted by him being schmoopy in his room for months on end.

“Well as a man of _science_ ,” It was time for some tough love. “I need _proof!_ ” The Professor crossed his arms to show his firm stance on the matter. _“_ And I just _haven’t_ seen—”

“Proof...?” Dib’s eye began to twitch as he stared up at him with disbelief. “ _PROOF?!_ ”

“Yes, _proof_.” Membrane reasserted. “If you want me to believe your claims, then you will have to provide the evidence to back them up. That’s how things work in the adult world.”

Dib stared at him silently a moment longer before grabbing him by the hand and dragging him towards the garage behind their house. The test children, floating in their energy field, long since forgotten by the Professor and his son both as he let himself be lead along by the boy.

“How do you need more proof than _this?!_ ” Dib demanded with a dramatic arm motion after pushing up the shutters. Behaving as though this was the very first time his father had seen any of the junk machinery and other things stored within. As if he _hadn’t_ helped with relocating any of it. The boy going on and on about how they were from his ‘countless battles’ with his little friend and other adventures he’d been on. Making sure to emphasize how science had ‘closed its eyes’ to everything he'd collected.

However, all the Professor said in response to what was being shown to him was: “It makes it very difficult to get to the lawnmower.”

Because it did. And it still was even after he had moved everything around. Even after he had put a sheet over the blasted ship his son had built since it sometimes still came online and made a mess of things in the garage by trying to move around.

The same sheet Dib now pulled off.

“That’s TAK’s _ship!_ ” He explained, as though Membrane knew who this ‘TAK’ was despite the boy not once having spoken to him about someone with that name.

However, the Professor’s attention was instead taken by the countless jars of honey lying about the garage that hadn’t been there previously. Their presence confirming his previous theory that his son had been the one to take and consume the jars after he’d purchased them. He’d likely had been hiding the jars somewhere in his room before some point in the past few weeks before dumping them here in the garage.

“Shouldn’t spaceships, _fly...?_ ” He countered his son’s claims as he examined one of the jars. Trying to rationalize how a twelve-year-old boy was able to easily pack away so much honey and be…

Well, he _would_ say perfectly healthy, but…

His son’s fusion with his chair was evidence that said otherwise.

“It will...” The boy pouted. “As soon as it lets me fix it.” He struck the ship with a tiny fist, waking its AI long enough for it to insult his face before its voice pittered out and it powered down again.

Membrane sighed internally.

Dib was really trying hard to convince him on the whole aliens having found their way to Earth thing, wasn’t he?

“It’s a fine… _Fake_ spaceship you’ve built there, son,” He said, hoping that complimenting the boy’s engineering skills would help as he let him down gently. A numb and neutral stance becoming far too draining for him to maintain. Because no matter what he ended up saying, it would likely not be what his son wanted to hear. No matter how he tried, he just couldn’t reach the standards and expectations the boy had set for him.“But—“

“ _FAKE?!"_

He didn't know how much more of this he could take...

"It’s _not_ —” Dib took in a breath as he collected himself, looking rather dead tired and fed up with the world when he started speaking again. “Dad, _nobody_ believes me. So I’m used to defending our world on my own but I wish, _just once,_ you’d have my back.”

Those words struck a chord with the Professor as he recalled a time, just over a year ago, where a similar phrase had been spoken to him by the boy.

_“You can count on me, dad! I’ve got your back!”_

He wanted him to have his back. Wanted for him to _support_ him.

Going so far as to even _wish_ for it, as unscientific a thing that was, when he never had to.

Was… That what was going on here?

Did his son still not realize he already had his support no matter what? That he _didn’t need_ to _wish_ for it just because he was a difficult sell on his theories and beliefs?

He couldn’t allow his boy to think that.

Getting down on one knee, Membrane reached out to place a hand on Dib’s shoulder. All the while trying _very_ hard not to appear visibly hurt when his son flinched and took a more defensive stance at his touch.

Now… How to go about this?

“Wishing isn’t very scientific, son…” He chose as a starting point for what he wanted to say. That Dib didn’t need to look up at the stars and wish upon them in order to get his love and support.

And he instantly regretted it...

Dib was glaring at him, thoroughly disappointed and enraged even before he could say anything else. His stare effectively trapping the rest of the Professor’s sentence in his throat.

Then, while still shooting him those eyes full of hatred and betrayal, he easily pulled himself away from his father’s hold as he let out a frustrated yell. Delivering a kick to his little project spaceship in the process as he stormed out of the garage.

All Membrane could do was get up and watch him leave. A hand raised as though in preparation to stop him that was eventually lowered to his side as Dib retrieved his little suitcase and resumed his trek down the road.

Even if Dib hadn’t already given him a hint earlier, the Professor knew his son well enough to know where he was headed.

If the universe decided to have mercy on him, maybe Dib seeing his little friend would do him just as much good as the other’s parent hoped it would for _their_ son.

Professor Membrane could only wish that it would…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those test children are DEAD(TM)


	3. Chapter 3

The Profesor retreated into his home after dealing with the unfortunate aftermath of the Membracelet prototypes and the test children. Once inside, he went into the kitchen and began brewing himself a cup of one of the custom loose leaf tea blends he always kept stocked up. Focusing on the motions of making the tea before there was nothing left for him to do but wait for it to finish steeping.

_“Wishing isn’t very scientific, son.”_

Why had _that_ been what he chose to lead in with?

And the way his son had looked at him before storming off…

Science, it was almost as painful as how he’d looked at him the night before his birthday.

_“All I am is just some failed copy of YOU!”_

Membrane quickly shook his head as to stave off the unwanted mental recollection. He knew if he allowed himself to start thinking back on that night too deeply, he would begin to spiral down a wormhole of depression and even risk having another mental break.

And he absolutely _couldn’t_ afford that right now.

Not with his first Keynote event in two years tomorrow night.

Taking in a deep breath, Professor smoothed back the hair on his prehensile hair limb to make sure no single hair was out of place. Because now more than ever, any sign of him being anything but perfectly sound in both mind and body would be picked apart by the media. He needed to appear as if he was in _absolutely perfect_ health. Otherwise, he—his _family_ —would continue never to hear the end of the negative publicity.

Dib especially didn’t need to bear the burden of having his father's negative public opinion thrust onto him.

By now, his tea had steeped for more than long enough, so he chose to refocus his attention on that.

Throw away the used paper filter.

Add the sugar and stir.

Then repeat the last step with the milk.

Once all was said and done, he had in his hands the perfect cup of Earl Grey Lavender, Vanilla Rooibos, and White Blueberry tea with a heaping of chocolate chips to tie it all together. Name brand teas such as Lipton couldn’t ever hope to reach the same level of rich flavor.

One sip was enough to calm his nerves enough to let him think more clearly on his next move.

Dib had gone over to see his little green friend; that he knew with 99% certainty.

But what of the 1% chance of him _not_ being there?

He could call his friend, the other boy’s parent, as a means of checking. But—

“Dad?!”

The front door being thrown open, along with his son’s voice calling out to him, snapped the Professor out of his thought process. He sat there momentarily frozen, unsure if he had imagined things at first. But the sound of fast-approaching little feet convinced him otherwise.

“ _Daaad?!_ ”

Suddenly Dib’s head poked into the kitchen, looking as if he were on some important mission.

“Son...!” Membrane instantly perked up at seeing his son’s face, his slumped posture straightening. However, he didn’t allow himself to feel too overjoyed, unsure of just where it was he and the boy stood.

He didn’t want to risk messing things up any further.

“I thought you’d be over at your little friend’s until well after dinner time!”

Dib’s brow instantly furrowed.

“ZiM’s not—” Then he suddenly stopped himself, an overly large smile taking the place of the previous aggression. “Actually, dad,” Dib took a few steps forward into the kitchen. “We were going to have a sleepover and—” He pointed towards the adjacent doorway that led to the staircase. “I forgot some stuff I needed in my room!”

“A ‘sleepover’?” The Professor blinked his eyes, taking more than a second to absorb what his son had just said fully.

He was just so surprised to hear the boy say that he and his little friend were engaging in something so...

 _Normal_.

Nothing about exposing his latest evil plan. Or about being an alien. Just a standard, typical, age-appropriate means of socializing for a kid his age.

And not only that, Dib even appeared to be in high spirits compared to how he’d been when he left. He acted as if he had just gotten the best news in his life.

Had finally seeing his friend after so long improved his mood _that_ much?

But what of the other boy?

Could the same be said for him? Was he also in good humor suddenly? He would have to call his companion to ask, but—

“That’s _very great_ to hear, son!” The Professor finally said after a beat of silence. “I’m so happy that you and your little green friend have finally been able to reconnect after all this time!”

“Yeah, so,” His son began casually creeping towards the stairs. “I’m gonna go to my room and grab my things!”

And then he was sprinting up the steps before Membrane could respond.

Zim had to have been more important to Dib than he’d previously considered or even realized.

He should have made a bit more effort to get them together sooner, even if the other boy’s parent had such adversity to it because of his poor health. Those parenting books he’d committed to memory _did_ say that childhood friends _should_ be considered part of the family for developing young minds.

And despite his frequent phone calls with ZiM’s parent— _whose name he still didn’t know_ —he hadn’t necessarily been doing that. Treating the other’s family as an extension of his own.

He hadn’t pressed them on further details as much as he should when they mentioned their boy’s sudden fall to depression. He’d been far too absorbed with his own son’s physical and mental improvement. And the other hadn’t seemed very keen on elaborating beyond that.

Maybe he could have paid a visit to the other household?

He had planned on doing that before Dib had—

_Oh, for PEG’s sake..._

Professor Membrane let out a loud sigh as he drank more of his tea.

Wasting time on thinking about all he could have done wouldn’t be of any help to him. It would be in his better interest to make a note of what he knew now for further steps he needed to take. Least his boy child or Zim fall into depression again in the future.

Those boys didn’t deserve to grow up into the same type of emotional wreck _he_ was.

Whilst enraptured by his own thoughts, Dib had come back down the stairs hauling an additional bag over his shoulder alongside his signature briefcase.

“Sure you have everything you need there, son?” Membrane broached with a light chuckle as he noted how it looked like the boy had shoved almost everything he could grab from his room into his backpack.

It was more like he was packing for the end of the world instead of just spending the night over at his little green friend’s. He wouldn‘t have been surprised if his son managed to somehow fit his bed and computer set up in there.

Dib looked at him silently for a moment before turning to look back at his overstuffed bag. Almost as if he were mentally cataloging what it was that he’d already packed.

It was then that Membrane noticed something.

Something he hadn’t picked up on when the boy had first returned home.

“Son,” he stood up from the kitchen table and slowly walked towards the boy. “What happened to the prototype I gave you?”

“...Huh?” Dib blinked as the Professor pointed towards his wrist, the one he had clasped a Membracelet not even over two hours ago. This action prompting his son to lift the same wrist and stare at it. “Uuuuh....”

“Son, _please_ don’t tell me you lost the bracelet.” _Or PEG forbid, threw it out._

With how upset he’d been when he’d stormed down the block toward’s the other boy’s place, it was highly likely that’s what had happened. That Dib had thrown the bracelet away in anger the same way he had thrown the book the Professor had given him for his birthday.

Recalling that resulted in Membrane lifting a hand to rub at where the book had connected with the back of his head. then unconsciously sliding that hand lower to press down against the vertebrae of his spinal harness.

Even though it had been months since the behavioral correction chip was literally crushed underfoot by his daughter, his neck would often still tingle as though a shock were about to be delivered to him.

And remembering these painful instances, caused by his failings as s parent, only allowed his masked state of depression to gain the upper-hand once more. Forcing the Professor to scrape together what he could to seal the deepening cracks in his mask of ‘normalcy’ as he braced for the worst.

But the worst never came.

“I, uh—I left it at ZiM’s!” Dib said quickly and seemed embarrassed as he made this admittance. “He, uh...” The boy fidgeted a bit as he avoided making eye contact. “He wanted to know how it worked, so I gave it to him to poke around and play with while I came to get my things.” He finally appeared to work up the courage to meet his father’s gaze as he nervously asked: “That’s okay, right...?”

The Professor didn’t realize he had been holding his breath as he stared at his son until he sighed with immense relief. The hand on his neck sliding and shifting until it was instead held over his chest and pounding heart.

“Of course, son!” _Oh, thank science_. “Of _course_ it’s perfectly alright!” He assured and watched as relief overcame his son’s own features.

It all made sense.

Why _wouldn’t_ Dib’s little friend be interested in the bracelet?

The little green boy’s parent must have let slip that they had helped the Professor in the prototype’s development. It was only natural that he would want to look at and play around with the available apps. It may have even been the first time the other boy had ever gotten to try out something like the Membracelet with how much of his parent’s income was dedicated towards medical treatments and maintaining the life support device on his back.

Once the Peace Day prototype was 100% perfected, he should formally gift a couple to him and his parent.

Or... Would that be in poor taste?

Maybe he should call and ask Cynthia and Lucius what they thought before he went and ended up with his foot in his mouth...

“Really?” Dib blinked up at him in surprise as these thoughts ran through his head. “Because I actually had a few questions about how it worked myself!”

The boy suddenly pulled out a miniature notepad and pen from his pockets. An action that caused the Professor to press the fabric of his coat collar against his mouth to stifle a laugh. After all, just a few hours ago, when he’d thought his boy had been excited about science and helping him with working on the Membracelet, he hadn’t been. But now, after he had begun to come to accept the fact Dib wouldn't be interested in helping him like he had been with programming the algorithms of his arms, the boy suddenly was.

The universe really had a funny way of going about things, didn’t it?

Before he could realize how lonely he was and how he desired a family, someone had to challenge his intellect and make him angry enough to start his cloning experiments.

And for him to realize his failings as a father, before he could learn to care for them and hug them more often, he had to first lose his arms.

What bitter irony.

“No need for that, son.” Professor Membrane chuckled as he ushered for Dib to put away his utensils and instead follow him towards the basement where his home lab was. “It would take quite a bit of time for me to explain in full how the Peace Day edition is meant to work.” He said as he punched the security pin to unlock the door. “And I know you likely don’t want to keep your little green friend waiting...”

Dib appeared confused as he listened to him speak, but, upon piecing together what he was likely getting at, instantly perked up and practically skipped down the stairs after him. His little hands tightly gripping the straps of his backpack and the handle of his Alien Hunting Briefcase as he followed him all the way to the computer mainframe that resembled the set up in each Membrane family members respective bedroom.

There the Professor took out a flash-drive from one of the desk’s drawers and proceeded to download numerous data files and blueprints onto it.

His son watched the entire process, seeming to try and keep up with his fast-moving fingers as they danced between the keyboard and multiple touchscreens. Then just as quickly, the process was finished with the drive ejected and presented to the boy with a showman’s type of flourish.

“Wait—” Dib blinked as he looked between his father’s outstretched hand and what little could be seen of his face in disbelief. “You’re...”

He set down his briefcase as he hesitated on whether or not to take what was being given to him.

Membrane’s attempt at a peace offering.

“You’re just _giving_ me the schematics?!”

“Of course, son.” The Professor chuckled lightly as he twisted his wrist so that Dib was forced to raise his much tinier hands to catch the drive before it could fall to the floor. “You wanted to tinker around the design and programming because you had some ideas on how to improve the Membraclet, didn’t you?”

He placed his hands on his knees, and he bent forward to be more at his son’s level without actually kneeling. This morning’s argument, along with the strain it had on him mentally, had reminded Professor Membrane of his increasing age. That even with all the help of his prostheses and everything he did to keep himself in shape, his body was still that of a man in his thirties. He could hold his own and push himself if needed, yes, but he was nowhere near as spry as his twelve-year-old son.

On the off chance he said something to upset Dib again that resulted in him running out of the lab, he planned on keeping up with him this time. The extra handful of seconds it would take for him to get up off his knees was time he couldn’t afford to dedicate to such an action. Not with how much faster he knew his boy could move compared to him.

“Why else would you have questions for me about how it worked?”

Dib’s face was expressionless for a moment as he just looked up at him in silence. Then his lip started twitching, as though he’d just been caught in a lie. Only, he hadn’t actually said anything yet, so how could the Professor have caught him lying?

Had the boy been hoping he wouldn’t question his sudden change in attitude towards the bracelet prototype?

Towards him?

“Y—Yeah!” Dib quickly shoved the USB stick into one of the pockets of his trench coat. “I just wanted to check your work for you!” He clasped his hands together as he smiled up at him innocently.

“I suspected as much...”

The Professor softened his gaze and chuckled lightly. And at the same time, berating himself for not having put on his facial prosthetic. Otherwise, he would have pulled down his coat collar to give his son an understanding and appreciative smile.

So instead, he just straightened his back and gripped one arm with the other. Pulling off the stereotypical pose one would do to show off their arm muscles. Though clearly, he had none to speak of.

“You want to double-check I didn’t mess up anywhere.” He grinned with his eyes, trying to plainly express that he took no offense at what was likely his son's thought process. “So another coding mishap like when I was working on my arms won’t occur.”

“... Yeah.” Dib’s smile wavered, becoming but a ghost on the boy’s lips as his eyes lowered. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.” His face now looking somewhat pained and causing the Professor’s brow to become knit with concern. “You know me too well, dad.”

The Professor couldn’t explain it but…

Something just felt… _Off_.

Had he not pegged his son’s intentions correctly like he’d thought he had?

But…

That _had_ to be what the boy had been planning.

If not that, then…

Then why exactly _did_ he want to know the specifics of how the updated bracelet functioned?

The schematics for the standard version had already existed for a while now. If he wanted to try making modifications of his own, he could have at any time. Why would he need the Peace Day prototype when the only main difference was the commercial features and childergy channeling function?

Membrane felt his heart clench in his chest then.

Was he planning to sabotage—

 _No_.

No, he was overthinking this!

Dib was capable of _many_ things, but his boy would _never_ have those sorts of ulterior motives.

This was simply a case of them being so estranged from one another after all these months.

That’s all this was.

That’s why he still had this pain in his chest…

“... Come up with me to the kitchen, son.” Membrane urged as he adorned the mask of mental stability once more. Hiding his concerns and suspicions not only from Dib, but himself as well.

“The kitchen?” Dib cast a confused look his way as he watched him heading back towards the stairs. “What’s in the kitchen?”

“Cookies I baked for you and your sister yesterday.” The Professor stopped to turn back towards the boy, one hand on the doorframe. “I thought perhaps you could bring along some to share with your little friend while you boys did whatever-it-is you kids do during sleepovers these days.“

Dib seemed to take a few seconds to process what had been said to him before reacting. Blinking his eyes, his face twisted into an expression of confusion, before—

“ _Oh!_ Cookies!” He was suddenly smiling wide. As wide as when he first came upon his redecorated room and new computer set up. “Yes, please!”

And so, with a tin of homemade cookies on top of everything else he had packed, Dib was off to his little friend’s house.

For the rest of the day, Professor Membrane dedicated his time to de-stressing and making sure he was well rested before tomorrow night. There was very little else he could do other than further tinkering with the bracelet preparation wise. And that he could do after the presentation was over and done with before they were on sale the next morning.

With Dib over at his friend’s for the evening, dinner ended up being a two-person affair of just he and Gaz. A scenario the Professor had already become uncomfortably accustomed to with how long Dib had spent locked up in his room. Just as he had been disturbingly used to them hardly ever sitting down together as a family at mealtimes just two years ago now.

A fact which he absolutely hated.

Sometime after dinner, after some time spent watching TV with Gaz in the living room, he tried to make a call to his friend.

Just to check-in and see how both their boys were doing at the other’s place.

But all he got was a busy tone, much like the first time he had ever tried contacting them. Suggesting that the other was likely busy with his work or entertaining their children.

Not surprising or unusual, but the Professor had really been hoping to get an update on how his boy child was fairing. Perhaps he was behaving a tad overbearingly, but with recent events, he considered his concern justifiable.

Though, now that he thought about it…

Ever since finally answering the first of his calls, the other parent had been rather diligent in picking up.

In fact, they _never_ missed a call from him.

He tried not to think about it too much.

Tried to ignore the feeling of something being wrong crawling up his back.

And thankfully, the next morning, he received a call back from them as he was getting dressed for the day.

“Hey, sorry for not answering.” The other apologized right off the bat, sounding as though they had gone another night without rest. “I was stuck pulling an all-nighter for a project that was suddenly dropped on me with a twenty-four-hour deadline.”

And there it was.

The reasoning for the missed call _and_ the level of exhaustion he spoke to him with.

“It’s perfectly alright, my friend, no need to apologize.” Membrane gently reassured, feeling as though he was probably behaving a bit selfishly in having basically been expecting them to drop everything to speak to him. He should know better than anyone how busy individuals could be at times. “I had just wanted to see how you and the boys were doing, this being the first time my boy has slept over and all.”

“Eh… It’s technically not the first time.” The other corrected, causing Membrane to pause in buttoning his lab coat with his free hand. “He would just randomly show up at our front door a few times a week.” The continued. “Before your accident, I mean.”

“Really now?” the Professor quirked an eyebrow at that. “Ah, yes, right, right.” he shook his head as he recalled something his friend had said prior. “I had forgotten you’d said as much not too long ago.”

“Hey, don’t mention it.” The other said with a tired laugh. “We’ve both been stressed lately and forgetting little things.”

“You more so than me, it seems.” Membrane lightly teased. “And how did you and your ZiM like the cookies? Or did the boys eat the entire tin all by themselves?”

“… Cookies?” The other seemed confused for a moment. A short pause following before they spoke up again. “Oh—yes, of course, _those_ cookies _._ The cookies that you baked…” They seemed to think on it a moment longer. “Yeah, ZiM seemed to like them. I mean, he kind of just… _Inhaled_ them… _All_ of them… The whole tin’s worth...”

“Did he now?” the Professor laughed. “I had a feeling your boy was a bit of a sweet tooth from how much sugar he takes his tea with. Oh, but… Along with your son’s other health conditions, he doesn’t have diabetes, does he?” He suddenly asked with concern. “I didn’t add to your workload in ensuring he took the correct amount of insulin?”

“No, sugar isn’t a problem for ZiM at all.” The other assured. “It’s a natural part of an Irk… I mean, uh… He pretty much lives off it... Sugar…”

“You doing alright, my friend?”

“Yeah, just tired. I’ll live… I think…” The other seemed to mutter the last part absentmindedly. “Anyway, tonight’s your keynote, isn’t it?”

“It is, yes.” The Professor said, unable to help but wonder if he should feel concerned about that comment they’d made. “It’s at 8 o’clock tonight, but I’ll swing by sometime around lunch to pick up—”

“Oh, you don’t have to.” The other cut him off. “I mean… ZiM and I are already planning on going to see your presentation, so… We can just bring Dib along with us.”

“… Really?!” It wouldn’t have surprised Membrane if the other could hear how excited he was at possibly finally meeting them face to face. “I mean—” he cleared his throat. “I would appreciate that very much, thank you.”

“Heh, don’t thank me just yet...” They let out what sounded like a hollow laugh in reply. “Hey… Professor…” they sounded as though they were briefly hesitating. “Be careful tonight.”

“Huh?” Well, that was certainly an odd thing to suddenly say. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean it’s your first public appearance in a while.” The other explained. “A lot could go wrong. Someone from a rival company, or even just some random, could try and sabotage it.”

At the word: ‘sabotage’ the Professor flashbacked to his concerns from the day before.

Concerns he quickly shoved back down simply because of how _ludicrous_ they were.

“You needn’t worry, my friend.” He said with a laugh. “I’ve made sure that security will be as tight as humanly possible to prevent something like that from happening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOON


End file.
